


Anticipation

by dudewheresmytea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Consensual Kink, F/F, Glove Kink, Knifeplay, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 04:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15766854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudewheresmytea/pseuds/dudewheresmytea
Summary: Aranea and Crowe enjoy a teasingly sweet session.





	Anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> Everything herein is representational of consensual bdsm practices, and was agreed-upon by the two characters before the story begins. The knife play is very chill; no blood.

“Mmm, well don’t you look good enough to _eat_!” Heels clicking. A woman in dark red velvet approaches.

Crowe shakes her ass. As much as she can, anyway, being strapped to a leather bench. Her body is prostrate and bent as if she were on her hands and knees. Two curvaceous mounds poke up into the air. “’Nea, please. Why do you make me wait?”

“Because I _can_ ,” Aranea answers swiftly. She clicks over to the bound woman and lays a hand atop one of the soft mounds. Unmoving. Crowe wiggles again. “Please…”

“Please _what_?” Aranea’s teases, lips curling into a grin. She knows it’s not easy for Crowe to talk about these things, never mind directly ask for them. Beg for them, even.

“Oh, ‘Nea…” She turns her burning face away.

Aranea chuckles and lifts her hand away from Crowe’s buttocks and trails a finger down the line of her spine, ending at the cleft of her rear end. She pauses and then continues down it, over the purple panties that Crowe is donning, and down, down to the heat that lie between her legs. She brushes over it carefully, her velvet glove barely making contact.

Crowe shudders and pushes herself into the caress, but the binds hold her tightly. A soft yet frustrated moan escapes her lips.

“Aww, if you want more you’re going to have to ask for it, darling.”

“I- …“ She trails off yet again.

The velvet touch was back, this time trailing down and over the mound of her ass and following the contour of her thigh. Crowe gasps.

“I can do this _all_ night, sweety.”

Velvet caresses reappear like magic upon Crowe’s shoulders, back, breast, nipple, and make their way down to her most prominent erogenous zone. Slowly. Teasingly. She tries to lift her ass in invitation.

“I want it.”

“Tell me. I can’t possibly know if you don’t say it,” Aranea lies.

A soft giggle fills the room. Aranea smiles. More velvet kisses peck Crowe’s thighs, moving up to the sweet spot, but not quite reaching it.

Finally. “I want you to spank me.”

“Is that all? Was it really hard to spit that out?”

“It is for me. I spent my life thinking I was a weirdo for wanting this.” Her cheeks are ablaze with color.

“Well, it’s good that we found one another, hm? Two puzzle pieces fitting together _just_ right. I’ll give you what you want. No judgement.”

A velvet hand suddenly gropes Crowe’s ass. She unleashes a ricocheting gasp into the barely furnished room. It ends in a whimpering moan loosely resembling Aranea’s name.

“Do you think you deserve it?”

“Y-yes. I do. Please.” Filling with deferred courage, she looks Aranea in the eye.

Aranea titters and commands her to face forward. After Crowe complies, she sweeps a finger up her slit. Crowe sighs and squirms. Her panties sop up some of her nectar, leaving behind a blot.

Heels clicking again. Aranea suddenly appears in front of Crowe and looks down upon her. Her expression is calm with experience and sovereignty. She lifts the skirt of her dress. Metal gleams. It catches Crowe’s eye but Aranea gives her no time to react before her heels are clicking again, out of view.

The point touches her shoulder blades and meanders down to the inlay of her spine, where it lingers for a moment before edging away. Although the pressure is not hard enough to cut, Crowe holds her breath in suspense. She dares not to move. Her body feels deliciously electrified.

Aranea drags the blade down the remainder of Crowe’s back. She is grateful for her lover’s courage and stillness. She doesn’t hear a peep out of her as she traces the blade over the fabric of her panties and down her plump cheek, the point loitering at the junction of ass and thigh. She feels nary a quiver as she glides it back up to a hip and unceremoniously slices the cloth that bars her access. She repeats the process to the other side. The knife is then re-sheathed into its holster upon her thigh.

A sultry voice. Rich as velvet “Good.”

The praise washes over Crowe like a ray of sunshine. Golden and lush. She wishes to turn to Aranea and tell her that she loves her. She feels a breeze as the cloth that was covering her ass slides downward and away, coming to a rest upon the bench beneath her. Her vulva is freshly exposed. It glistens with her arousal.

“’Nea,” she whispers, but Aranea is already there, running a gloved finger along the outer edge of her folds. This time she does allow herself a shiver.  

“Look at you. You’re such a naughty girl. Whatever shall I do with you?” She looks down at Crowe with a stern gaze.

It’s all for show, of course, but Crowe basks in it. Soaks it up like a sponge. She feels herself engorge and pulse. A moan escapes her lips unchecked. “Punish me,” she requests, her eyes cast downward. “Please.”

“I just may…” Aranea teases in return. A hand is already stroking Crowe’s thigh, coming frustratingly close to that sweet spot where pussy meets ass and thigh but maddingly changes direction at the last moment.

Crowe feels an overwhelming need welling inside of her and wants to cry out in despair but before she does she feels Aranea’s hand lift away and connect with the fleshiest part of her ass. She groans aloud into the room and instantly wants more.

Aranea rubs the area she just struck. It was already turning a soft pink. She rubs the other cheek. And back to the first one. She can feel Crowe growing impatient.

“May I have more, please?” Crowe asks softly. She knows Aranea will hesitate, but she tries anyway. She attempts to lift her ass. Predictably, the straps hold her down.

“How much do you want it?” Aranea continues to rub. Casually, as if applying a spice rub onto a Sunday roast. She switches to groping, and then a groping-rubbing combination while Crowe dawdles and gasps.

“I want it … _more than anything else right at this moment_!” Crowe blurts out suddenly, as if she were finally allowed to speak after taking a vow of silence. “I _need_ it. Please spank me. Pleease.” She moans at her own licentiousness. A droplet of elastic fluid descends from her labia.

Aranea delivers a series of soft pats to Crowes ass, the velvet glove feeling provocative as it lightly – but barely - taps against her skin.

Crowe struggles against her binds. The sensation is nearly proving to be too much. Her clit aches with need. No longer afraid, she moans shamelessly. Her arousal, resolute and free, takes over her very being. If only Aranea would go _harder_.

The pats cease. Aranea is bending down. She parts Crowe’s outer labia and directs a soft exhalation toward her engorged clit and inner folds. A nonhuman whimper cascades from Crowe’s lips as her body trembles. Aranea blows again, her mouth coming tantalizingly close. Nearly touching.

Crowe tries to thrust herself into Aranea’s face but is held fast. She groans in frustration. “’Neaaaaa!”

Aranea pulls back and tugs an item out from under her stocking cuff. A wooden kitchen spoon. “Are you going to behave?”

Expecting another round of soft teasing, Crowe huffs and wiggles her ass. Her pussy glistens and shines. Suddenly, a loud smack followed by a yelp fill the room. Crowe cranes her head back to see what Aranea has in hand, her countenance displaying shock. “Hey! Where did _that_ come from?!”

“I never leave home without it,” Aranea jokes. “Seems I always need to be prepared around the likes of _you_. Eyes forward.”

Crowe obeys, feeling the first hints of apprehension trickling down her spine. An egg-shaped pink blot materializes upon her right cheek. The sting from the blow lingers somewhat but is already being forgotten. In the silence the follows, she anticipates when the next strike will occur.

Aranea taps the wooden spoon off Crowe’s unmarked cheek, chuckling at her surprised gasp. “Yesss, this is what you want, isn’t it?” Tapping harder, she switches to the other cheek. “This is what you need.” She switches back and cracks the spoon off the fleshy mound hard enough for a new pink mark to appear a moment later.

“Ohh!” Crowe can’t find any words to add to her exclamation, but they’re not needed anyway. The spoon courses through the air again and connects upon a previously struck spot.  A guttural groan follows. It stings like hell, but Crowe feels herself fast approaching orgasm.

Aranea taps the spoon on Crowe’s jutting vulva, eliciting a fresh wave of moans. She then returns her attentions to her rear end, alternating between blows of the spoon and soothing strokes with her glove. Several pink roses pepper her skin. Aranea pauses for a moment to admire them. “You have no idea how _beautiful_ you look right now! Painted like an exquisite work of art. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” She parts Crowe’s labia and skillfully drives her tongue against and around her clit until her lover’s climatic vocalizations fill the room.


End file.
